Breathing
by PoeticallyPathetic19
Summary: Dean's torn between doing what's right, and what keeps him breathing. Wincest.


-Note- This was something kind of random. I love this song and it came on my iTunes one night and just...there it was. Sam and Dean, all over. Terribly angsty, random, but it is what it is. Send love, hate, whatever. Just review:) -Note-

_Eyes are feeling heavy but they never seem to close  
The fan blades on the ceiling spin but the air is never cold_

Dean stared down at Sam, his brother's freakishly long legs tangled in the bed sheets. His hair matted down with sweat against his forehead and his breathing even. One arm thrown across Dean's stomach, the other tucked underneath him. For the first time since he'd come back to the hunt, he was sleeping. Really sleeping.

No nightmares, no thrashing, just the occasional sigh.

Sam shifted, his arm tightening around Dean. He slid his hand over Sam's, trailing his fingers slowly down his arm. He was happy that Sam was sleeping again, but what helped Sam sleep, kept Dean awake.

He hadn't meant for things to end up like this. It wasn't like he'd brought his brother back to help him find Dad, all the while planning to fuck Sam's problems away. Because he wasn't.

How was he supposed to know Sam felt that way for him?

Sam had never said anything about it before, had never made a move to touch Dean in any way other than in search of comfort.

Comfort had never ended with kisses that led to frantic touching and pleading. At most it ended with gentle kisses to his forehead or temple, a strong arm pulling him to Dean's chest. His body providing comfort and safety, but never pleasure with it.

_And even though you are next to me I still feel so alone  
I just can't give you anything for you to call your own _

Even with their love making and soothing words, Dean felt cold and alone. Empty, almost.

He sat up, feeling guilty for even thinking that. If Sam knew he felt this way, no matter what the reason, it would destroy him. And he didn't want to hurt Sam, he _never_ wanted to hurt Sam.

It didn't even have anything to do with Sam, or Dean's feelings for him. Because he loved Sam without a doubt, in every way he should and shouldn't. And it didn't have anything to do with his body not wanting this, because _fuck_ if it didn't.

All Sam had to do was look in his direction and his pants were too tight. It was an affect only Sam had on him, and damn if it wasn't a pain sometimes. Driving for hours at a time, on lonely, deserted roads. They were lucky they made it anywhere. Hell, they were lucky they had the energy to do anything.

But it wasn't about that, this was about knowing he couldn't give Sam what he wanted and needed. Couldn't give him a future or any of the normal things that Stanford could give him.

He could give him love and pleasure, protection, always. But he also brought danger and loss of acceptance. With their lives, with the hunt, Sam was on the wrong side of the law more often then not. And one day there would be no going back from that.

He couldn't have some white picket fence home, a dog, and 2.5 kids. Because even if he could, it would never last. No matter how hard he tried for Sam. Something would always come along and ruin things.

_And I can feel you breathing  
And it's keeping me awake  
_

Dean sank back onto the bed, letting Sam curl around him. His breath hot on his already overheated skin. It made him want to pull away and return to his own bed, except he didn't have his own bed anymore. Sam always found his way to his bed anyway, it had seemed stupid the way things were between them to have separate beds.

Now Dean wasn't so sure.

Being able to feel Sam breathing, his steady heartbeat, and the soft, unplanned kisses on his neck, was enough to make him second guess his doubts. Enough to make him selfish all over again.

_Can you feel it beating?  
My heart's sinking like a weight_

His chest tightened as Sam's lips brushed against his shoulder, parting as they met skin. Desire flared in him, his body suddenly as tight as his chest. That was all it took for him to think things over again, to _stop_ thinking and act. He wanted to roll over and pull Sam on top of him. Kiss him awake and worship his body all over again.

He wanted to remind Sam with every lick and bite that he meant the world to him. That he wanted him, needed him, _loved _him. But he couldn't wake Sam up. Not now. His brother was tired and spent like he was. They'd been at it for hours before he'd finally convinced Sam to sleep.

Only to find himself as unable to sleep as the night before, and the night before that. There was no reason for them both to suffer. No reason to hurt Sam anymore than he already had.

Sam knew something was bothering him, he'd asked time and time again, until Dean thought Sam would burst into tears. He didn't want to tell Sam what he was feeling or what he was thinking because he knew Sam would be against it, because in the long run, telling him this would only hurt him more than letting him wonder or letting him go.

He needed time to think, he needed what space he could get.

Without leaving Sam, preferably.

_Something I've been keeping locked away behind my lips  
I can feel it breaking free with each and every kiss_

Dean leaned over and pressed his mouth hungrily to Sam's. He wanted to devour him whole, listen to him moan and whimper until his throat was hoarse and he couldn't speak to save his life.

Sam stirred, a quiet moan satisfying a small part of that urge. But it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. He would always want more, would always want to give more.

More than he had to give.

_  
I couldn't bear to hurt you but it's all so different now  
Things that I was sure of, they have filled me up with doubt_

Dean truly thought he could do this. Thought that he could make Sam happy and keep things the way they were. But he couldn't. He loved Sam, he wanted to do everything he could to make him happy. He wanted this just as badly as Sam did. He just couldn't…

It was wrong, and he was scared. He was scared that Sam would hate him for this in the end. That he would realize how big of a mistake they'd made, that he'd made.

And Dad. They were looking for Dad. If he found out, he'd kill Dean. Dean had ruined his youngest son, had led him into hell with a kiss.

There was no coming back from that.

_And I can feel you breathing  
And it's keeping me awake_

Dad would probably kill him. Maybe both of them. What else would a father do when he found out his two sons, his _only_ sons, were fucking. The idea that they could love each other in any way other than brotherly would be no excuse. He'd think they were possessed or sick, something.

Then when he couldn't change things, could exorcise what he thought had taken over his sons, he'd kill them.

Dean at least.

He was after all the older brother. It was his responsibility to take care of Sam, to make sure that someone didn't take advantage of his too sweet younger brother. Because no matter what Dad had taught them, no matter how much of a Winchester Sam was, no matter how much more like Dad he was than Dean, he was too sweet for his own good. Like their mother had been.

It had always been unspoken that Dean was like their mother, but truthfully Sam had a lot of her qualities too. Dean's leaned more towards the physical, as much as he hated to admit it, but he did.

_  
Can you feel it beating?  
My heart's sinking like a weight  
_

His heart sank as he thought of Mom. Dean hadn't thought about what Mom would say, only Dad. Which was stupid, because she had to know. Dean may not be religious or a big believer in spiritual things, but he did believe that his mother looked over them. Whether she could do anything about the way things were or not, she knew.

Dad would never accept it, but Mom…she would understand. She would see that Dean needed Sam, that he'd had no choice in it. Losing her had decided everything for them.

But he wasn't going to let things get any worse than they had. He was going to step up and protect his younger brother like he was supposed to.

He was going to break his own heart, right along with Sam's.

_  
I can feel you breathing  
It's keeping me awake_

Sighing he glanced over at Sam, taking what comfort he could from the rise and fall of his chest. Things could be worse, he could have never had Sam. Could have gone the rest of his life without talking or seeing Sam again. To know what he felt like, or tasted like. To know the way it felt to hold Sam, to make him happy. To know that making up with Sam could have more than a half grunted apology or a jokingly muttered _bitch_.

He was just selfish enough to be thankful that this had happened. Just selfish enough to be thankful that Dad had left.

For all he knew, finding Dad might change everything on its own. Sam might realize his mistake and break things off by choice.

Whether that mistake was being with Dean, or thinking that things could be smoothed over with him and Dad, Dean didn't know.

He was pretty sure that either one meant Sam would leave.

This time for good.

_Could you stop my heart? It's always beating.  
Sinking like a weight_

Dean wanted this to happen. He wanted Sam to keep stopping his heart with every kiss, touch, and smile. He could keep wanting, he just couldn't let Sam know.

There were too many strings attached, to many what if's and how about's.

Too much hate, anger, and guilt.

Too much love.

_How am I supposed to feel about the things I've done?_  
_I don't know if I should stay or turn around and run  
I know that I hurt you, things will never be the same_

How was he supposed to deal with the way things had happened? The things he was doing to Sam? It was so easy for him to stay with Sam, no matter how bad it hurt. But breaking it off was better for Sam. He'd be hurt, but in the end he'd thank Dean.

Even if he didn't thank Dean, he'd understand.

One day.

He'd understand that it was eating Dean up inside, that it was destroying them both.

How long could an incestuous relationship last? Even with their lives. And especially, when one of them was Dean?

Sam nuzzled at his neck, breaking into his thoughts and throwing him into a whole different emotional spin.

God, this was all he'd ever known. Sam and his touch. Even before things had taken a turn for the worse/best, Sam's touch had been warm and comforting. A reminder that he had more purpose in this world than protecting people he would never know and that would never know him.

He had a younger brother who needed him. Someone who loved him and could never stop loving him.

He'd just never realized how deep that love went.

_The only love I ever knew, I threw it all away_

Dean was throwing this away, was throwing _them_ away. Because it was the right thing to do.

Fuck him.

Why couldn't he get over right and wrong? Why couldn't he just be selfish and accept that this was what he wanted and what he needed too? Why did he always have to put his family before his happiness?

For once he wanted to be a selfish bastard. He wanted to be okay with throwing his brother down and fucking him while he moaned and writhed, gasping, cursing and worshipping Dean all in one breath.

He wanted to be okay with wanting and needing. He wanted to be okay with himself.

Because this _was_ him. There'd never been a time when he wasn't wrapped up in Sam, tangled up in his brother's wants, or lost in just the thought of him. There'd never been a time that he didn't want or need Sam.

Sam was a part of him, and that wasn't going to change. No matter how hard he pushed or fought it. He was never going to be able to rid himself of this desire, of this selfishness.

But that was his problem. Not Sam's.

_  
And I can feel you breathing  
And it's keeping me awake  
_

Sam could move on with his life. Could find someone to love him and give him the things he wanted, not just the things he needed.

If he explained this to Sam, he'd only argue with him. Whether what he said was true, or just something to comfort Dean with, he'd say it.

That was just Sammy.

His Sammy.

_Can you feel it beating?  
My heart's sinking like a weight  
_

But he couldn't be his Sammy. Not that way. _  
_

_I can feel you breathing  
It's keeping me awake  
_

He didn't want things to be this way.

_Could you stop my heart? It's always beating.  
Sinking like a weight_

Dean shifted his broken gaze towards the half open curtains and watched as the sun came up. It was a new day, with fresh light, fresh choices, fresh decisions, and for them, fresh wounds.

He watched the sun filter in through the window, Sam's breath skimming across his neck. Reminding him of all the other times it had been like this with them, days when this was an innocent comfort, and it made his heart ache.

He wanted to go back to that and he didn't. He wanted to have his brother back and he didn't. He wanted to give Sam what he needed and he didn't. He wanted this day to mean something other than what it did and he didn't.

But with all his wanting, all the back and forth and reminders. He knew what he had to do, what he had no choice in.

As the sun came up, giving everyone a new chance at life, he felt his end.

What had happened between them, was never going to happen again.

This, _them, _was over.


End file.
